


Sweet Nightmares

by Hello_fandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker has PTSD, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_fandoms/pseuds/Hello_fandoms
Summary: Peter Parker isn't exactly your typical rebel teenager, as most rebel teenagers wouldn't stow away on a quinjet that was heading toward the lair of a monster. He got a thorough scolding from his mentor, Tony Stark, but they didn't have the chance to turn around. So now he's in a cave with his father figure, waiting by a fire for him to come back from his little scouting mission. Unbeknownest to him, this monster doesn't have claws. It has the ability to do so much worse than injure.Scars of the past are brought to the surface for both Tony and Peter. The teen must solve the mysteries presented to him or else they are both doomed to suffer the same fate as so many others who entered the monster's lair.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Sweet Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I put Tony and Peter through it in this one, y'all. 
> 
> I tag too much, lol.

The crackling of fire and hum of a battery powered fan were the only sounds in the cave, echoing against the dark, stone walls and the former giving off just enough light for Peter to see the wall across from him. The young hero sat beside the orange flames, occasionally poking at them with a stick as he continued to wait for his mentor to come back. He had left thirty minutes ago and the teen was beginning to worry, but he tried to squash that emotions down. Mr. Stark was fine. He was Ironman. He had to be fine. 

Peter sighed for the fifteenth time, no one there to hear the sound but him. He settled his chin on his knees, one arm wrapped loosely around his legs as he poked at the fire with the stick again. Mr. Stark had been well prepared for this mission, bringing matches and wood in his backpack, while Peter only had the suit on his back and the abilities given to him by the spider bite. He would have been more prepared if he knew about the mission for longer than thirty minutes before it happened... and if he was supposed to be on it. He had stowed away in the cockpit of the small quinjet, Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Stark not knowing he was there until midway through the trip and they had to move the box he was hiding behind. 

He had gotten one of the biggest lectures he had ever had from Mr. Stark then. The man had paced back and forth across the small cockpit, telling him how he could get hurt and that it was dangerous. He also scolded him for having convinced Friday to allow him on the mission. Mr. Rhodes had stood off to the side, face expressionless as he leaned against the far wall, arms crossed. They didn't have time to go hack to the city though. There was what people called a 'monster' living in an area near a small town and people were going missing only to come back with terrible nightmares, headaches, and a blankness to their eyes. 

When they had touched ground in a woodland area, Mr. Stark decided to keep Peter at his side. The armors were packed, but only Rhodey donned his. His mentor wore his gauntlet bracelets and modified glasses, but that was it. The different apparel had been confusing until War Machine flew off and disappear passed the treeline while Mr. Stark guided him toward the entrance of a cave, telling him for the third time about all the safety measures: "You are going to do as I tell you to. You will not dive head first into danger. The only reason you're coming with me if because Rhoday is going to be flying and his weapons are mostly on his back and shoulders, which means you can't go with him and if I leave you up here, you will find a way to get into trouble. You see danger, you run. You see something suspicious, tell me." 

He had since learned that the monster was often seen in the cave at night so they were going to search for its lair while Mr. Rhodey patrolled the area looking for it. Peter held his tongue when the question of if the monster was in the cave today came to mind, feeling the static between him and Mr. Stark that wasn't just from the lecture he had just been given. His mentor was having the same thoughts as him, he could tell. 

Peter had hoped that the cave would be like those where you might find a bear. Short and if there was a bear, or, in this case, a monster, you could run out and then fight it if necessary. His hopes had been extinguished after a few steps, replaced by more questions. The cave sloped downward and it was a slow, silent trek until they got where the ground evened out. Barely any light reached that area and ahead of them had been pitch black until Mr. Stark brought out his flashlight and the teen didn't have to check to know that Karen couldn't reach him down here. Peter did as instructed earlier and stayed close to his mentor, not making a sound as the weight of what was going on finally settled on him, making his heart beat rapidly in his chest. Would they die here? Was that the last time Peter would see the sun? He had to forcibly shake those thoughts away and keep trudging along. 

Literally trudging. They had encountered mud a few more yards later and it reached up to their ankles. It was thick, near black mush and brought their pace down to a slow crawl. Peter didn't want to climb across the cave wall due to the moisture that could or could not be water. Who knew what would be on the walls of a cave that belonged to a monster?

Roughly thirty minutes later, the previously narrow cave walls that were beginning to make Peter claustrophobic widened out. They came into a circle area with another tunnel leading out of it, into darkness. Peter had watched as his mentor started a fire, questions hovering on his tongue. "Mr. Stark?" He had asked, fighting to keep his voice level as he looked around as if the monster would pop out any second. He received a grunt in response and glanced back over at his mentor, only then noticing the sweat around his brow and the way his breathing was slightly rapid, his eyes darting back and forth behind his sunglasses. 

Was he... scared? The thought hit Peter like a truck. He knew everyone got scared at times, but his mentor always felt invincible to him. The teen watched his hands closely, watching the usually steady limbs shake a little as he fumbled with the matches. He didn't want to think about how this mission was so severe that it was making his father-figure scared, or that something could even make him scared, but he couldn't pull his kind from the thought until Mr. Stark asked, "kid?" 

"Uh..." he momentarily forgot his question. "What... what are you doing?" He came to kneel beside the small pile of wood, watching as Mr. Stark finally got a spark and a flame formed on the match. 

He got a scoff with the answer. "I'm building a fire, Pete. What else could I be doing?" In the dim light, he could see him roll his eyes, some of the visible fear retreating and his hands shaking a little less. He dropped the match onto the pile and Peter watched it all go up in flames, one by one. Mr. Stark set up a small, wireless fan that blew the smoke outward, toward the opening they had come through, and then stood. He began walking toward the tunnel that lead farther into the pitch black darkness, flashlight in hand, but the young superhero jumped up and grabbed his arm. It was a move he typically wouldn't do, but he was desperate, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He didn't want Mr. Stark to leave him here, nor did he want his mentor to go alone. 

"Where are you going?" He asked, ignoring how he wanted to plead with him to stay. Let the monster come to them. They would have the advantage if they did that, wouldn't they? It was better than Mr. Stark going alone. "Let me go with you," he had added. He really hadn't wanted to go, but two superheroes were better than one. 

[I] "I'm not going far, kiddo. Just a little scouting mission," Mr. Stark had tried to assure him, gently pulling Peter's off his arm. "I won't be gone long," he said. He hesitated a moment before putting an arm around his shoulders and giving him a quick side hug. It was surprising, but not unwelcome. "If any trouble comes to you, you yell for me, got it? Run if you can, fight if you have to. Stay safe." He let go of Peter and disappeared down the tunnel. The spider themed hero had the urge to run after him, but decided to obey for once. He had settled beside the fire and waited, promising himself to wait an hour. If Mr. Stark didn't come back, he would go after him. 

Which lead to where he was now, sitting beside a fire and jumping whenever he heard a water drip hit the ground or when the fire popped a little louder. He sat the stick beside him and ran a hand through his mussed brown hair. Mr. Stark had left his backpack behind, only taking his flashlight, and Peter's curiosity piqued when he saw something shining on the side. He had seen what was in the backpack when Mr. Stark packed it on the ride over, having watched from a small gap between boxes, but he had no clue what the shiny thing was. 

Curiosity captured, he grabbed the bag and reached into the mesh side pocket. He pulled out a small, silver switch blade knife. His eyebrows came together. Why on Earth would Mr. Stark need a knife when he had gauntlets? They were way cooler and way more powerful. Did Mr. Stark know how to use a knife as a weapon? He did live with Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton at one point, so it wasn't that far out of a possibility. 

He put the knife back into the pocket, settling the bag beside him and allowing the weight of it to settle against his side. Peter glanced back toward the tunnel Mr. Stark had gone down, hoping he was okay while the teen just sat there. His mental clock said that he still had almost half an hour to go until he could go after him and he itched to do so, but he also didn't want to leave the fire. He would have no light except for the small amount that came from his suit and he wasn't exactly vying to go off into that darkness. 

The fire went out. 

The teen blinked stupidly for half a second before scrambling to his feet, grabbing the backpack in one hand and powering up his suit with the other. His heart thumped loudly in his ears, adrenaline and fear moving through his bloodstream as his breathing picked up. His senses dialed up to fifteen and his 'spidey tingle' was going off like crazy. 

There was a swish of air and then an invisible force knocked into Petrr from behind, leaving him sprawled on the hard ground. The backpack fell from his grip as he got up again, squinting into the darkness without hope of seeing anything. There was definitely something there, he could feel it. What had knocked into him felt like a closed fist that wasn't abnormally giant like he had thought the monster would have. 

As soon as he regained his bearings, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Long fingers dug their nails into the fabric of his suit, somehow cutting deep enough to get to his skin. Cold seeped into his bones, gripping his heart and leaving him nearly numb. He was thrown against another wall with enough force that he felt one of his ribs crack, sending a shooting pain through his torso. He struggled to get back up, fighting pain and the cold that threatened to encompass him. Peter felt more fear than adrenaline, the emotion clasping a hand around his heart and squeezing until he felt he couldn't breathe. 

The hand returned, only this time it was to his forehead. Momentary confusion mixed with the fear until his world was thrown out of balance. A crushing weight slammed into him, his arms going up the moment he sensed it and catching it. It had to weigh tons and he put his legs against the weight as well. Dim light allowed him to see brick and beams, and that's when he realized he was back under that building. The one the Vulture dropped on him. His breathing halted, sweat pouring down his temples as his heart beat so fast he thought it would claw its way out of his mouth. 

How was he even here? He thought as he fought to get the weight off of him like he had so many months before. He was just in the cave, waiting on Mr. Stark. There were no beams, no bricks, no concrete, none of this.

Remarkably, the weight began to ease, like his thoughts had lightened the load. He pushed upward, dragging in a breath for his burning lungs. He felt so closed in, so small. He needed out. He needed... the weight became heavier and his mind raced along with his heart. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't possible to be back here. 

Once again, the weight eased, except more drastically this time. His panic filled brain figured something out then. When he didn't believe it was true, it became less real... or something like that. Peter just knew that every thought that said he wasn't back under the building made the load lighter. Every piece of clarity helped him get out of here. 

Unbidden, a memory rushed back to him. Two months ago, Peter had suffered his first flashback in front of his mentor. He came back to himself with Mr. Stark's voice guiding him into the present time with questions: five things he could see, four things he could touch, three people, two smells, and one thing he knew was true. Later, when they were sitting in front of the TV with chocolate milk in their hands, Peter had asked him how he could tell if something was real or not.

Mr. Stark had stayed silent for a few moments before saying, "if someone isn't there to help, see if you can ask yourself those questions. If you can't, then name things you know are true. Name constants in your life and hold onto them. At least, that's how I do it." 

Considering that the pile of rubble he was under might not be real, he decided not to name anything physical. He recalled certain questions and forced himself breathe, talking out loud. "Two people I can name are Mr. Stark and Mr. Rhodes. They're nearby." He sucked in another breath. "May is at work right now. She's doing second shift and won't be home until late. The freezing point for water is 32 degrees fahrenheit. My AI's name is Karen. Mr. Stark is my mentor. He is Ironman. I am Spider-man." The load lightened with every statement and he wracked his brain for more questions. 

Instead, he found that remembering also took weight off of him. Peter remembered May's hugs, his and Ned's handshake, and swinging through New York City. He held onto those memories, recounting each sensation in detail. He closed his eyes, willing himself to be back in that cave because that was where he was. He wasn't here. 

He opened his eyes, only to find he was still under the rubble. The weight that had begun to get so incredibly light started to weigh heavily on him ince more. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and tried not too be overcome by terror, scrambling to get a grasp on his memories again. They were slipping through his fingers like water faster than he could grab on. 

Finally, he got a hold of one. Mr. Stark's arm around his shoulder, guiding him down foreign halls or into his lab. He remembered the shoulders pat he would sometimes do before releasing him. He recalled the side hug he gave him less than an hour ago, imagining the arm around his shoulders, and the weight that had been pushing him into the ground disappeared. His arms flopped to his sides exhaustedly and he panted, trying to get his breath back. 

After a long minute, he gingerly pried his eyes open. He was lying on his back in the cave and the fire was one again lit. Movement caught his eye and he saw the edges of an unnatural shadow disappear into the tunnel. He wanted to go after it, but something else grabbed his attention. 

On the far wall, there were words. He blinked repeatedly because they had definitely not been there before. He got to his feet shakily and moved toward them, the fire light illuminating them clearly. 

Those who dare seek her  
will pay the price of reliving scars.  
She lives off fear like it is her blood.  
Your head is fair game when in her lair.  
Realities can be warped  
and time can be slowed.  
Beware of her and watch your mind  
so maybe you'll see the sun another time.

Peter shuddered, eyes roaming over the words again. He could still remember the broken building pressing down on him, a memory that would always be seared into his brain. He didn't think that the word 'scars' meant physical ones, but mental ones. That theory was further supported by the phrases of warping reality, time slowing, and the warning of watching his mind.

Another question pressed on his mind. This 'her' had to be the monster that haunted the cave, but what exactly was she? She could be human, but humans needed food and drink, something that wasn't very available in the area. If she were human, would she be like Scarlet Witch? And if she weren't human, then what was she? Alien? 

A strangled yell broke him out of his reverie. Mr. Stark! He was still in the tunnel and could have been hit first, or was getting hit now. Peter started toward the sound, but turned and grabbed his mentor's backpack first. As he pulled the straps over his shoulders, Mr. Stark's warnings of running toward danger came to his mind. 'Sorry, Mr. Stark,' he thought as he scooped up a large stick from the fire, holding it like a torch to light his way as he moved quickly down the tunnel. 'I can't run. I'm not going to leave you behind.'

The tunnel seemed endless. He could barely see five feet ahead of him and it felt like he was walking into danger. Well, he was, but that wasn't the point. Every hair on his neck stood up as a cold draft wafted over him from deeper within the tunnel. A draft? He must be ten feet underground, there couldn't be a draft. He pulled his mask on over his head, but it did nothing to help his vision. It made him feel a little safer, but how safe could you be when walking into a monster's lair? 

Another yell, closer this time. Peter moved faster, hand trailing the wall to keep from running into it. "Mr. Stark?" He called our despite his better judgement. "Mr. Stark! Where are you?" His heart pounded loudly in his head as no response met his ears. A headache was beginning to form around his temples, but he ignored it. His super healing would fix it. 

"Mr. Stark!"

"P-Peter?" 

The teen halted in his tracks for a brief second. That was Mr. Stark's voice, without a doubt, but it was small and sounded terrified. It was such a difference from his usual tone that it threw Peter for a dangerous loop, headache and fear forgotten as he worried for his mentor. "I'm here, Mr. Stark. Keep talking, I'll find you."

Much to his worry, Mr. Stark did not respond back. Peter held the torch further out as he picked up his pace, no longer worried about running into walls in his panic. Whoever 'she' was, it sounded like she had gotten to Mr. Stark. 

Peter remembered his own flashback like experience. It had been terrifying and it felt like he was reliving the whole thing until he followed what Mr. Stark said. He recalled the hand to his forehead. Was that how she did it? She was causing this, that was clear. But what had she made Mr. Stark see? 

Too distracted to notice his spider senses going off, he tripped over his mentor instead of finding him. "Mr. Stark!" He exclaimed as he scrambled up to his knees, grabbing the torch from where he'd dropped it on the ground. The elder genius was curled into a ball against the stone wall, flashlight dead beside him and his head pressed to his knees. He gave no reaction to his name, visibly trembling with his arms wrapped around himself. "Mr. Stark," he said, hand hovering around his shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay. We're both okay. Whatever you're experiencing, it isn't real." 

Mr. Stark finally raised his head up a little and Peter gasped at seeing his eyes. Instead of the dark brown he was used to seeing, he saw glowing blue and green that had begun to take over his pupils. Specs of familiar brown floated around in the iris as he blinked a few times, fear emanating from his tense body and wide eyes. Peter forced himself to breathe again and speak, "Mr. Stark, it's okay. I don't know what you see-"

"Why... why are you here?" Mr. Stark asked, his fingers digging into the fabric of his black pants. Peter went to explain how they were both in the cave for a mission, only to be cut off. "You're supposed to be dead. Yinsen, you're supposed to be dead. You're dead." His voice was still quiet, but filled with conviction. Some of the brown in his eyes disappeared. 

"I'm not Yinsen, Mr. Stark, I'm not," he replied, yanking off his mask and discarding it to the side. Who was Yinsen? He had never heard the name before. How did he die? Where did he die? How was he supposed to bring Mr. Stark out of this nightmare when he thought he was a dead man? He said Peter's name a minute ago. Was 'she' around? Had she been here just a few moments ago? A shiver ran up his spine at the thought. "It's me, Peter, remember? Peter Benjamin Parker. Your intern. Spider-man. We're in this cave to look for a monster who causes people to relive flashbacks." That was the best explanation he could think of. At least now he knew why people came back with nightmares. 

His mentor tilted his head, more brown returning to his eyes. The three different colors swirled together like a whirlpool, as if fighting each other. Had that been how Peter's eyes looked? "Kid?" He asked in a croaked voice. The teen's heart jumped up his throat, only to fall again when Mr. Stark continued. "Why are you in the cave?"

He was about to restate what he said, only to rethink the words. 'The cave.' Mr. Stark was thinking of a different cave and it had to be the one from nearly ten years ago. That must have been where Yinsen was. Where he died. "We aren't in Afghanistan, Mr. Stark. We're in...uh... Florida?" It came out as more of a question, but Peter wasn't exactly sure where they were. He had been more preoccupied with getting on the quinjet unnoticed than the details of the mission. "We're in Florida, Mr. Stark, searching for a monster." 

"'Monster' isn't exactly a flattering title," a feminine, gravely voice said from behind him. Peter whipped around, eyes widening as he saw the figure. She was short, barely four feet tall, with a wrinkled, pale face and curly black hair. She was dressed in an old buisness suit, a grey one that was ripped in multiple places. She wasn't what Peter expected, but were monsters ever predictable? 

"Well, it fits for what you do," Peter replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. He dropped the backpack on the ground as he moved into a protective crouch in front of Mr. Stark, holding the torch up high and allowing the light to cast an eery yellow glow over everything. "Release Mr. Stark," he ordered, drawing confidence from deep in his gut. 

She hummed. "I don't think I'm going to do that." Her mouth twisted into a painful grin. "Many people who come here don't have very bad experiences, so I have to warp them together myself. You two, however," she paused, a sinister glint in her eyes. "have nightmares that draw pure fear from your very souls. It's delicious." 

Peter clenched his empty hand into a fist. Just being near her brought back memories. He could hear his own scream after Uncle Ben had been shot. He could vaguely feel the crushing weight on his back and shoulders. He could remember falling into the water and the fear he felt before Mr. Stark saved him. He shook his head and pushed those memories to the darkest corner of his mind, slamming a mental door on them. Not right now. 

"Although, I do have a question," she said, a curious look passing over her features. He tensed, fighting to keep his breath even as she walked a few steps toward him. "How did you manage to break out of my hold? People don't usually do that. They usually end up like your friend right there." She gestured to Mr. Stark and Peter couldn't help but look back. His mentor had his head down on his knees again, small tremors rocking his frame. 

"I had a little help from someone," he responded, turning back to her only to almost fall backward from surprise. Before, she had only been up to his chest in height, but now she was taller than him and glowing. She was also closer, which Peter did not like. 

"You were alone."

"You are never alone when you have people in your corner, even if they aren't there," he replied. She regarded him with a suspicious and somewhat wary gaze, then held her arm out at her side. Peter stood, falling into a defensive stance. She flickered her wrist and the teen watched in morbid fascination as the tunnel sealed up the way he came, the stone coming together like clay until it was a solid wall. 

"I will only let you go if you figure out how to defeat me," she said before snapping her fingers. She disappeared, but Peter knew she was nearby. No villain like her would be stupid enough to leave their prey unattended. 

It was mystery after mystery today. First, there was the mystery of where the monster was. Then, why did Mr. Stark bring a knife and when was he going to get back? That was followed by what had hit him and having a flashback that he didn't know how to end. He had figured out most of those mysteries, only the knife one remaining, but now he had to figure out how to beat someone who could cause him to seize up with nightmares. Peter felt like banging his head against the wall, but he didn't need a concussion on top of everything. 

A shuddering breath reminded him that Mr. Stark was still suffering silently behind him. He turned around ans got back down on his knees, unsure of what to do. Be still held the torch in one of his hands. "Mr. Stark? Can you look at me?" Suprisingly, his mentor looked up. Brown had taken over half of his eyes, but was slowly being pushed back by the green and blue. Why were his eyes like this? It was another mystery on the list. 

'Think, Parker,' he thought. Mr. Stark's eyes had changed into these colors with the flashback and it had to be the monster's doing. Brown was the real color of his eyes and every time he came a little closer to reality, the color grew. Maybe if he could get him grounded, brown could overtake blue and green. That had to be it, in simplest terms. "Tony, who am I?" He asked, feeling that using his first name might help. It was the first time he had ever called Mr. Stark 'Tony' and it felt a little weird, yet right at the same time.

"Peter," he choked out, eyes flickering from the cave walls to him. A relieved smile crossed Peter's face and he continued: "who is your best friend?" The teen kept asking questions, watching as the brown in his eyes grew, proving his hypothesis. Blue and green lashed out forcefully, but were always pushed back with the next question. As the green and blue became just a few specs and Mr. Stark's breathing had mostly evened out. "I'm going to touch you, okay?" Peter asked, receiving a jerky nod. He took Mr. Stark's hand and pressed it to his own chest, urging him to copy his breathing as he took exaggerated breaths. The last of the foreign colors disappeared and his eyes were brown again. 

"Mr. Stark, are you with me?" He asked, dropping the informality as his mentor closed his eyes for a second. He gave Peter's hand a brief squeeze and nodded, opening his eyes after another moment. 

"Yeah, kid, I am," he breathed. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I should have turned the quinjet around and took you back home, orders or not." Before Peter could protest, a small, wry smile crossed Mr. Stark's lips. "You know this means you have to start calling me 'Tony' now, right?" 

A surprised laugh escaped Peter, hysterical and relieved. Mr. Stark was fine. They were fine - for right now, anyway. He calmed down after a moment, sitting down beside his mentor. The man put an arm across his shoulders in a familiar gesture and the teen relaxed a little. "How are we supposed to beat her, Mr. Stark?" He whispered, looking at the glowing torch that was still in his hand. Nightmare Lady (as he now dubbed her) could put out the fire and they would be left in total darkness. It was clear neither of them could fight well in the dark. 

"Kid, there's one thing about this mission that I didn't tell you. I didn't exactly have time and you weren't even supposed to be here," Mr. Stark whispered pointedly. Peter didn't know if he should smile cheekily or feel scolded. He decided on both. "One of the people who entered this cave said that he had a silver coin in his hand and when he held it, nothing bad happened. When something grabbed him by the leg and tripped him up, he dropped the coin. He was affected by hallucinations afterwards. I think that silver may be a weakness of this witch." 

"Like a werewolf?" Peter couldn't help but ask, blushing when Mr. Stark chuckled breathily. 

"Like a werewolf," he agreed quietly. "But..." he glanced away, mouth twisting like it did when he was nervous. Peter tilted his head, feeling a bubble of nerves forming in his stomach for the first time since Mr. Stark came back to him. "I can't use the knife. I mean, I can fight with it, but I wouldn't be the best. I kind of..." he trailed off, jaw working silently. 

"What happened, Mr. Stark?" He asked anxiously, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer but also needing it. Silently, his mentor extended his right leg, revealing that the bottom of his pants had been ripped. He held the torch closer to the limb with a shaking hand and now could see that there was blood. Mr. Stark had a gash in his leg about seven inches long and a bit deep. He hadn't been able to see it before because of how he had his legs pressed together. "Mr. Stark!" He exclaimed, voice half scolding, half worried as he watched blood sluggishly move out of the wound. 

"I know, kid. I know," Mr. Stark groaned. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out a wad of bandages, needle, and thread. The billionaire had stitched Peter up before and he didn't doubt the man's capabilities, but he still watched with a careful eye as he started to sew the wound together. 

"What's the plan, Mr. Stark?" He asked after a few terse minutes. His mentor tied the thread together and cut it, picking up the bandages to wrap the wound. It was another long moment before he answered. 

"I don't like what I can come up with, but it's the best I got," he said. "If something sounds stupid, blame it on the blood loss." He pulled in a breath. "Do you remember that training exercise I had you do to see how your senses worked?" Peter nodded, not liking where this was going either. "We both know crazy witch lady is going to snuff out the fire, so you are going to have to rely on your senses and fight her." He tied off the bandage while the teen looked at him, his heart thumping wildly. Mr. Stark slipped the knife out of the backpack and handed it to him. 

Peter flipped it open, studying the silver blade as it glinted in the fire light. His hand was shaking a little and he forcibly stopped it. He had to be strong. Mr. Stark took the torch from his hand and the young hero met his eyes. Mr. Stark gave him a small nod and whispered, "you got this," just before the fire went out. 

Focusing on breathing, he closed his eyes. The knife was heavy in his hand as he extended his senses outward. He dodged put of the way of a punch before it could land, and caught a foot before it could get him in the face. He had no qualms about using his super strength against the monster and pushed back, sending her flying. Less than three seconds later, he caught a punch. He twisted her arm, trying to pull her forward, only for a shriek to meet his over sensitive ears. Surprised, he let go, stumbling back and opening his eyes. He was overwhelmed by the darkness and didn't feel a punch coming. It hit him in the chest and the breath was knocked out of him. 

"Kid, use your abilities! Spider tingle, Pete!" Mr. Stark's voice called. He bit back a retort about it not being a 'spider tingle' and closed his eyes once more. He grabbed the foot that came toward his jaw and held on. He yanked her toward him, clenching his eyes shut against the shriek that followed. 

"No!" Monster lady yelled just before Peter put the knife into her stomach. The ankle he was holding disappeared into dust, followed by the rest of her. The hero opened his eyes the moment the fire came back, blinking against the sudden light. All that was left of the terrifying monster was some ash on the ground. He stomped on it for good measure and walked over to Mr. Stark. 

"Good job, kiddo," he praised, a smile crossing his face. Peter found himself smiling back as he offered his hand to the man. The man took his hand and allowed him to help him up. His arm once again went around Peter's shoulders and the two watched as the wall that had formed earlier fell apart, disappearing into the ground. 

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter responded. 

"I told you, call me Tony," his mentor said. 

The teen hummed in consideration. "Alright.... Mr. Stark." He laughed as the elder genius rolled his eyes playfully. Peter took some of his weight so he wouldn't injure his leg further and, together, they hobbled out of the cave to tell Rhodey they solved the mystery.


End file.
